


Don't you see what I see

by lettalady



Series: Blips and Blurbs [24]
Category: British Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:42:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26483593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lettalady/pseuds/lettalady
Summary: Prompt fulfillment for Tom and a plus-sized reader who struggles with her self-esteem/ self-image.
Relationships: Tom Hiddleston/Reader, Tom Hiddleston/You
Series: Blips and Blurbs [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1925065
Kudos: 18





	Don't you see what I see

“You’re not dressed…”

 **WELL SPOTTED, TOM.** – you think, quirking your eyebrows without looking up from your book. You _had_ been planning on attending an event with him tonight. You’d bought a new outfit for the occasion and everything.

The trouble had started after you’d gotten a shower and started prepping. The doubts had started, the comments running through your head that you couldn’t seem to silence.

So you’d put the clothes back in the closet – the tags were still on them so you could return the garments tomorrow – and tossed on something comfortable. Tom would just have to go alone tonight.

He hasn’t spoken again since first coming into the room to find you curled up reading a book. You risk looking up at him. He’s tucked into a three piece suit, the waistcoat just a touch lighter than the deep gray material of the jacket and slacks that fit him so well.

What was he even doing spending his time with you? Of all the women to catch his eye, and dare you admit it to yourself, his heart, why you? For whatever reason, he had stopped to make conversation with you, chose you to pursue. He’d chosen a woman perpetually struggling with her weight rather than someone – ‘more befitting of Hollywood’ – was how you’d heard it phrased, once. That was the far kinder way of phrasing it, by your estimation.

Tom has been fiercely devoted to you, sensitive to any mutterings that occur. He’d walked out of an interview when the host had called you fat – after lecturing them on bullying, manners, and common decency. Since then he’s steadfastly refused any interviews with either the individual in question, or the company they represented.

He exhales slowly when you shrug at him, “I’m not going. But you go ahead. Enjoy the night.” You look back down at your book to avoid those piercing blue eyes. If you stare into them too long you’ll cave and you just don’t feel up to all the sideways glances tonight.

Actually, most weren’t even so subtle as that. Not in this town.

Here, they stared.

“Ok. Let me change and call to tell them not to expect us.”

 **US?** You look up to find him shrugging out of his jacket.

“No. Tom. You go ahead.” You set the book down in your lap while you shake your head at him. He places his jacket to the side and starts unbuttoning his waistcoat. Your eyes drift to follow his fingers as they unclasp each button down towards – you glare up at him for making your libido spike.

He knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Stop it. I know you want to go.”

“With you. I want to go with you.”

“Pah. With me. Why are you even with me?” You press your fingertips to your thumb and shake your hand at him to accompany the question. The thought had been rattling around in your brain all day, amplified by the banquet this evening.

The cheeky smile fades into a thin, stern line as he comes to join you on the lounge. “Where is this coming from?”

You press your index finger to your temple. “From in here.”

“Sweetheart…”

You shake your head at him, “I fully planned on getting dressed and being ready to go when you got home. But. Well, I’m not blind, Tom. I took one look in the mirror and heard what they’d say. _Look at her on his arm. Shame she’s so…_ ”

Tom cuts off your words while pressing two fingers over your lips to stop your sentence. “Stunning in that outfit.”

You roll your eyes at him and pull his hand away so you can speak unhindered. He immediately locks his fingers with yours. “That’s _not_ what they’d say.”

His oh-so-expressive eyebrows merge to form a frown. He blinks and starts to stand, pulling you up with him. “Alright. Come on.”

You’re hesitant to follow him but you’ve had prolonged eye contact and have overstepped the threshold of your willpower. Where he goes, you follow – though you whine in protest. “Tom…” You stop short when you realize he’s heading for the bathroom and the full length mirror held within the room. “No…” He doesn’t release you. You plead again, “Oh come on. No.”

He is persistent, eventually gently guiding you into the bathroom and turning you to look at yourself in the mirror. He nods at you from over your shoulder, looming in the background as you give him the stink eye via the reflective glass. He doesn’t seem bothered by the look you’re giving him, he just smiles that megawatt smile of his in return.

“Tell me what you see.” He rests his hands at your hips to hold you in place and prevent you from turning around.

“A pair of gorgeous blue eyes.” It takes a quirk of his eyebrow to turn your focus where he wants it – yourself. You make a face at the woman in the mirror before sighing, “Me.”

He nods. “Good. Ok. Describe this beautiful creature to me, please.”

Again you roll your eyes, but you do as he asks. Where to start?

“Round.”

He removes his hand from your left side to swat your bottom lightly, then resumes holding you in place. “Behave.”

This could become interesting if that is his idea of penalizing you. “Short?”

This elicits laughter from him and he pulls you back to rest against his body. “One word answers? I object… And I’ll assume you mean in comparison, but that’s not entirely fair. I’m 6’2”…” He gives you a light nudge. “Keep going.”

You study the reflection of you relaxing in Tom’s arms. You sigh, “Ugh, I don’t know…”

He leans to speak softly into your ear, “Alright. I’ll help you out. Delightfully curvy.” He plants his lips just below your ear. “Flawless skin.” His lips make your skin tingle as he makes his way towards your weak spot – your shoulder.

You snort. “Flawless? Tom – really I don’t know who you’re looking at but it isn’t me.”

He stops nibbling at your skin and finally releases you so you can turn around. He is silent for a moment after making eye contact to make sure you’re listening to him. “I am looking at you, sweetheart. I wish I could get you to see yourself as I do - my buxom goddess.”


End file.
